[She took What?] - Chapter 86: Davy’s Story – Into Penumbra: The bloodied rags were a message.

Into Penumbra

Nothing can live for ever in the dark core of a shadow, the Umbra.

Sooner or later, it will seek the partial illumination of the Penumbra where all you need is faith. Faith in what you are given.

But to live in the Light? To survive there, exposed for all to see, you must have absolute belief in your own abilities, and in those who stand beside you.

(SolDiri Teachings)

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Rebecca watched as they killed the last of her kits. A fire built inside her. Forced to watch as they closed in, cornering it and slowly killed it with shots aimed to wound, to bleed it dry. It cried out, didn’t understand why.

“Make the pain go away,” it shrieked then killed itself with a black obsidian knife. A last act of defiance.

This wasn’t anger, she knew anger. This was rage, pure all-consuming rage.

“Your time will come,” she said, baring her teeth, pulling at her bonds and spitting the words at Big Red.

He mocked her, “Your time is almost here.”

“They were just kits…” Rebecca started to say but before she could finish, he cut across her.

“That’s why we sent our youngest and weakest against them. To make them stronger. Only the strong survive here.”

She laughed; it surprised him, “Strength has many forms, all you do is make them weak.”

He snorted, sharp, staccato, “And yet here you are.”  The reds that sat with Big Red laughed, he wiped snot from his muzzle and continued, dismissive of her, “You couldn’t protect a handful of kits. So, what chance has your mob got? No chance, no one.” His words stung, hitting home stronger than any slap he could have delivered. Her head dropped, but her jaw tightened in silent fury.

“And there it is,” he said, playing to his crew. “Defeat.”

The reds below them, on the ground started to drift away, with the hunt over there was nothing much to do or watch.

On those rare occasions when they left Rebecca alone the motes tried to calm her; but her rage pushed most of them away leaving her alone with her thoughts and red motes, drawn to her anger.

That she hadn’t yet been killed gave her status, as did her ability to ‘conjure’ motes. The guards were spooked by her; they’d watched her through cracks in the drey’s walls and seen swarms of motes come to her.

They kept away and talked of the ‘captured witch’.  It all added to the building mystique and aura surrounding her.

 

Big Red lounged in his oversized chair, its bulk meant to intimidate and waited for the scouting party to return. While too large to be comfortable it served its real purpose; making him look more imposing. Rebecca was off to one side, tied to a small bench seat. She’d stopped struggling, silently observing; counting weapons, memorising faces, looking for cracks as Davy had taught them if captured.

The scouting party was late, but he wasn’t worried, they were chasing a leaderless mob of greys. He’d seen to that by taking Rebecca. Once their valley was his he’d claim their land and everything between as his own. He corrected himself, once it was his mob’s.

When the scouting party filed in, he counted them, none were missing. Loosing people wasn’t a good look.

“Sir,” the party lead started, “I’m sorry we’re late; it took us longer than we expected. Not because the greys hid. They didn’t even try,” the lead said, holding up a map box. He paused; a smug smile played on his lips. “There were fewer than we thought. Some of their drey’s were abandoned. The remaining greys were play fighting with sticks.”

Big Red clapped his hands, bouncing up and down with excitement.  “Excellent news,” he said looking at Rebecca.

He repulsed her. “One day soon, I’ll rip that smug smile right off your face,” she vowed.

They ignored her.

 

“And sir, we found these.” He laid a wad of bloody pelts in front of Big Red. Rebecca recognised them immediately. They were Davy’s.

“Where were they?” Big Red asked.

“On a crag, near a standing stone. Close to the lookout.”

She let out her breath, unaware she’d been holding it in. Big Red heard it and turned, “What are these? A talisman? Some kind of sign?”

It was a message, “I’m alive,” but she knew that anyway. Felt it, felt him.

“You could say that.” Her answer, though enigmatic, seemed to satisfy him.

He moved on. “In three days, when the bright stars align with the black moon, we’ll finish this once and for all. The alignment is something they celebrate; it’ll be easy and then their lands will be ours.” The reds went wild, shouting, the noise deafening in the drey. Big Red smiled; they were so easy to control.

 

Later that day, as Rebecca sat, tied to a bench and guarded by a couple of browns, she heard an argument outside Big Red’s drey. Voices were rising and three browns pushed past the guards, into the room confronting Big Red.

“We found a body,” they said. “Near the cliffs by the northern rise, back of the lookout.”

Big Red kept his voice level. “Ours?”

They shook their heads. “Well, yes, a brown. Killed. One of your reds mauled him.”

He nodded once. “Anyone talkin’ yet? Who did it?”

The brown leader’s eyes narrowed. “Of course they’re talkin’. This is seen as a betrayal. We demand answers. But your reds… they’re denying it outright. Say they haven’t had a patrol in that region for days. Which we all know isn’t true.”

“It’s not something we’d do. Why would we?” responded Big Red, genuinely confused but his anger rising.

The brown leader was careful, “Why? Why do people do anything? It’s a terrible thing, butchered he was.” Then after a pause, “My people are scared.  For now, we’re backing off.” It was said with finality, no negotiation offered.

Big Red kept his anger in check, just, “We didn’t do this. We’ve got an agreement.”

“Yes, but for now our mob aren’t happy about it. We’ll need to mend bridges, restore trust. One of our mob was murdered, stabbed in the back.”

The three browns then turned and left.

 

Big Red just sat there, his anger almost visible, just in check. Browns added little, but it was better them with him than with the greys. 

He wanted to lash out at something but instead got up and left. The guards let out a visible sigh.

Rebecca smiled, also confused as to why reds would do that. But it could only help.

 

With one day left until the alignment, Big Red sent out a final scouting party. Just reds, the browns were still being annoying, refusing to go out on scouting parties with them.

A small group was tasked with quietly watching the valley and confirm that nothing had changed. It was all jokes and smiles as they left. Big Red even offered to share some fruit wine with them when they got back.

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